Mother (Almost Never) Knows Best: A Love Letter to the NHS....

Saturday, 25 March 2017

A Love Letter to the NHS....

Dear NHS,

I love you.

The adoration that I have for you is complex and not easily put into words but much like a lover on their deathbed I feel that I must so that you can hear it and know you are loved.

I can see that you are struggling and that there are people who are trying to bring you down. You trusted them as friends but now you realise that they have been undermining you at every turn and have left you demoralised and insecure.

I need you to know that I still see you for everything that you are and everything you are capable of being. My love for you remains steadfast.

You see, I know you of old.

I was a junior doctor once. I craved those five letters from my early teens, MBChB, refusing to let anything get in my way. Despite my desperation to get to the front line and start helping people, I found myself convinced that I was woefully inadequate; consumed with the fear of hurting anyone. This daily terror forced me to, reluctantly and sorrowfully, desert the profession. I now realise that the vast majority of your junior doctors also battle with this terror every day and yet continue to turn up; continue to devote themselves to the service of others. The risks they undertake and the vast responsibility that is prematurely thrust upon them is crushing; yet their labours go largely unrecognised and poorly rewarded.

And they are not alone.

NHS, I know that in your heart you are kind. You long to meet the needs and surpass the expectations of everyone of your charges and yet you are thwarted at every turn by bureaucracy and meagre funding. Your caring nature is dispersed through every last one your nursing and midwifery staff who tirelessly tend to the masses whilst making each one feel like they were the first.

I have been the patient, more often than I would like. I take advantage of your benevolence on a weekly basis from the multitude of health professionals who wage war on my failed pancreas and my body's inability to house my unborn children without peril to those who mend my the resultant anatomical consequences borne by my child.

For that I thank you. I shall be eternally grateful.

Don't let them get you down.

You are so much to so many people and we love you.



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